


We Shelter in Our Skin

by ainsley



Category: due South
Genre: First Time, M/M, PWP, post-cotw, stopdropporn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-16
Updated: 2008-04-16
Packaged: 2017-10-02 01:59:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ainsley/pseuds/ainsley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Storms can come up suddenly in Canada. Sometimes, the storms are people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Shelter in Our Skin

**Author's Note:**

> Written for brynnmck's prompt "sudden storm" in stop_drop_porn. You've been porned, Brynn! No beta, alas, so let me know if I need to fix anything. Thanks to monroe_nell for being certain I knew about the tag.
> 
> Starship released "We Built This City" as a single on 11 November 1985. Fortunately for me, Hurricane Kate formed on 15 November and hit Florida before dissipating on 23 November. Only thing better would have been Hurricane Bob, but that was in July.
> 
> And, yes, I researched my porn. Or at least the parts I could, like the history. Oh, and a hurricane here really did blow out just the S of a Shell sign. Considering that much of that area is no longer legally habitable a decade later, nature has its moments of ironic accuracy.

The hike had been Fraser's idea, of course. He didn't know why, after all this time, he hadn't realized that Benton Fraser qualified as a human hurricane. Or, well, the eye of a hurricane. He'd walk into a room, calm, collected, and quiet, but inevitably the room around him erupted into chaos, with people swirling and energy levels rising and falling far too fast for anyone's good.

It never touched Fraser, who seemed to not even notice that not everyone caused such wind and rain, that unlike him it wasn't normal for a human to spawn human tornadoes.

(Ray'd never managed to convince Stella of that, either.)

The day was calm and clear, the sun radiant, the wind gently kissing their skin, cooling the sweat and keeping them snug as a bug in a rug.

(Ray supposed starting to talk funny was part of Fraser's hurricane--that he somehow changed words, like when the wind blew out the S in the SHELL sign. Except Fraser stuck phrases into places they didn't belong and stole them from where they did. Of course Fraser called the theft correcting Ray's grammar, but Ray's speech belonged to Ray, who hadn't given Fraser permission to violate his brain. Other parts, sure, not that Fraser noticed, but Ray really needed to learn to pay better attention on these hikes, because whenever he started losing himself in thought there was a hole or a tree or a -- )

"Ray. Ray. Ray." Fraser's voice shattered Ray's reverie like a stick flying fast enough to break a window.

And then Ray found himself knee-deep in the hoopla. Well, his knees were in the muck because he fell on them when his feet got stuck, and he couldn't remember what Fraser called this particular mess of nature, so Ray called it hoopla in his head; it helped him deal with the indignity of being covered in slimy smelly ook while standing next to perfectly-pressed Fraser if he at least had good music to keep him company.

(Not that Starship was good, but it made him happy. It reminded him of his honeymoon. That song was fuckin' EVERYWHERE then. When the radio wasn't reminding them of Hurricane Kate swirling in their direction.)

Fraser pulled Ray out, of course, and naturally Ray's attempt to pull Fraser down failed. It's like Fraser's personal bubble was Scotchgard or Teflon or something.

(Ray had never seen Fraser let his guard down or let anyone in. Funny that his own attempts to keep people out never kept him from getting dirty.)

Two hours later, Ray's legs itched, his toes still had slime slithering between them, and they still had ten minutes to walk before they made it back to the cabin.

Ray knew his luck was improving because, when he and Fraser hadn't been as good friends, the storm would have hit when they were farthest from the smallest living quarters he'd ever shared.

(He didn't count Stella's dorm room, because he never actually lived there. Ray just slept in the narrow bed there a lot of nights, with and without Stella. His own roommates didn't smell so good, but Stella's bed always smelled like Stella, clean and crisp and somehow more like Fraser than warranted thinking about at this juncture.)

"Speaking of junctures, Ray, at this one I think we should make a run for it. Technically we should make ourselves a small target under some of these small trees, but I think we can make it home before the lightning gets close enough to do us harm."

"Speaking of junctures? What do you mean? You reading my mind, Fraser?"

"Well, no, Ray, but a certain wrinkle always appears on your forehead when you make a decision. Decision, of course, is from the Latin, decidere, meaning 'to cut off from.' If you are making a decision, you are at a juncture between two choices, and are choosing to cut off one of your options, as you were in your head when that deep black cloud appeared low on the horizon."

"Cloud?" Ray looks around. "Oh, that cloud. Running for it sounds like a good plan."

A minute later, as they ran to the sounds of Ray's feet squelching in his boots (one day maybe Fraser would start keeping him from falling. He'd used to stick an arm out in front of Ray, to keep him from tripping or falling into slimy muck, but that was when they were in Chicago. Apparently in Canada Fraser kept his arms to himself.) the cloud opened and wham! It started raining so hard Ray could barely see in front of him.

When they finally reached the cabin, Ray took off his boots and socks and went back outside. He couldn't get any wetter and didn't think Fraser would let him shower inside in a thunderstorm. He took off his soaked shirt and wiped his muddy legs and feet clean before heading back inside, where Fraser had already built a roaring fire and was making some sort of wooden stand in front of it.

"Ray, if you'd like to get out of those wet things, you can spread them out here," Fraser said, gesturing toward the stand.

"Great, thanks." He was down to his boxers in two shakes of a lamb's tail.

(Ray mostly wanted to know when he'd started thinking in animal metaphors. Or at least how he could stop it.)

Fraser sat in front of the fire, watching it with his legs pulled to his chest and arms around them. For a moment Ray just stared at his profile, lit up from behind and making him appear to glow.

"Are you just going to sit there in those wet things?" Ray asked.

(Surely Fraser couldn't be shy. Ray'd seen him in his boxers before, but that was in Chicago. Come to think of it, Fraser'd seemed a lot more comfortable around Ray before they accidentally moved in together, while they took a break from their trek.)

"That's all right, Ray. I'm fine like this."

"Don't be silly. You and your clothes will dry off faster separately." Ray reached out and put a hand on Fraser's shoulder.

(Ray would later swear he heard the air crackle at that moment. Fraser would say the storm caused it. Ray knew better, because he knew that Fraser was the storm.)

Fraser turned his face toward Ray, as though startled by the contact. Ray had never seen anyone look as naked as Fraser did in that moment, with longing writ deep on his face and seemingly into his soul.

Ray lifted an eyebrow in silent question as he sat beside Fraser, hand still on Fraser's right shoulder. Slowly he lifted it to Fraser's cheek. Both of them watched it, like its motion surprised them, like they never believed they could have that moment.

Fraser leaned into Ray's hand, and said, almost moaning, "Oh, Ray."

That did it. They both leaned forward and crashed into each other, the first accident Ray'd ever seen Fraser have.

(Ray later thought that was the moment he got sucked into the Fraserspace at the eye of Hurricane Benton. He fell a lot less after that, and stayed much cleaner. Of course Fraser did tend to reach out for him a lot more, and they stood closer together, which might have had something to do with it.)

"Ow." Ray stayed down, propped on his elbows.

"Ouch." Fraser sat and looked at Ray, then leaned forward, placed his hands on either side of Ray's head, and kissed him.

(Ray thought he could feel the wind in that kiss. It howled outside, whipping the rain loudly against the side of the cabin. Something certainly took his breath away.)

Ray reached up and threaded his left fingers into Fraser's thick wet hair and lowered them both to the floor. He then flipped them over and started unbuttoning Fraser's flannel shirt, groaning at the sight of the t-shirt underneath.

"Why you always gotta wear so many clothes, Fraser?"

(Ray wasn't expecting such loud, happy laughter as a response.)

Fraser lifted an eyebrow and got this expression on his face, serious and joking at the same time. "Do I?"

"Yeah. And what's more, you know it."

(Who knew Fraser could LEER?)

"Why, Ray, don't more clothes just mean more fun removing them?"

Ray kissed the smug look off Fraser's face, as he finished unbuttoning the shirt and yanking it out of Fraser's trousers. They continued kissing, tongues tangling and delving deeper and deeper as Ray pushed it off Fraser's shoulders and reached down to free the bottom of the pesky t-shirt that had thus far hidden Fraser's perfect chest from his questing mouth.

As Ray lifted it, Fraser held his arms up and grabbed Ray's hands as they lifted the shirt over Fraser's head. Fraser then used their upheld arms to lower Ray onto his back, pinning his arms to the floor. Their erections lined up perfectly as they held each other, using arms and tongues to get as close to the other as possible, thrusting and rubbing and breathing deep and fast.

When they had to part for air, Fraser gave a quick tug to Ray's lower lip before leaning down and kissing Ray's neck, feeling his pulse and tasting the sweat and rainwater.

Ray couldn't stop the moan that escaped as Fraser's lips found his left nipple. Fraser sucked and teased, licking and blowing until both of Ray's nipples were so sensitive the air blowing around the cabin was enough to keep them erect. Fraser kept kissing his way down Ray's chest, running his hands through the hair, fingers stroking Ray's ribs so softly, calluses adding an extra dimension to the touch.

(Oh oh oh. Yes! Just like that!)

Fraser lifted the front of Ray's boxers away from his hard, leaking cock and tugged them down; Ray lifted his hips to help without even thinking as Fraser's lips closed around the sensitive head.

Fraser sucked and licked, pumping with his right hand as his tongue found the slit and tried to dive into it.

( ... nnngh ... )

Ray was nearing his climax when Fraser lifted away, just as the first clap of thunder exploded overhead, rattling the glass jars on the shelves. He couldn't think enough to move as Fraser unhooked his belt, unbuttoned his trousers, and started pushing them and his boxers efficiently toward the floor.

Fraser lowered himself onto Ray, who almost came as Fraser's lips returned to his and their cocks began rubbing together.

(Ray felt as though Fraser were trying to climb into his skin with him. Fraser did have some great ideas.)

Ray nearly leapt out of his oh-so-sensitive skin when Fraser's hand reached around him and gently stroked his hole.

"Oh, God, yes, that's it," he said in response to the inquisitive look on Fraser's face.

Fraser rolled across the floor to a box under the chair. He reached inside for the lube and a condom before returning to Ray, who found those three feet between them too much for comfort. He heard the cap open shortly before a slick finger began probing his hole.

Ray lost all verbal ability as Fraser reached inside and stroked him, swirling inside and pulling in and out with first one finger, then two, and finally three, kissing him all the while.

( ... ! ... )

The sound that Ray made when Fraser's fingers found his prostate was nothing like he'd ever made before. Ray thought he was going to come as Fraser stroked it once, twice, three times before pulling his fingers out. Ray felt empty as Fraser sat and rolled on the condom and spread more lube onto it.

When Fraser thrust in for the first time, Ray felt more comfortable in his skin than ever before. Sure, he was panting and moaning and couldn't see straight or hear the storm outside, but with Fraser there, in him (finally), he felt quiet and still, calm and secure.

Fraser leaned down and began kissing in time with his thrusts, slow and gentle, pulling out almost all the way before sliding slowly home, in out in out, oh so slowly. Ray could feel himself leaking onto his own chest as Fraser unerringly hit just the right angle time and time again.

Soon, Fraser began to come apart, too. He began thrusting faster and harder, and reached in front of him and began stroking Ray, pumping and teasing in no pattern, just more and harder, until Ray came harder than he'd ever imagined possible.

The feel of Ray's ass clenching around his cock sent Fraser over the edge, too, as his hips twitched until he collapsed onto Ray, spent.

He pulled out a few minutes later, when they both caught their thoughts again, and tossed the condom into the trash can without moving from his warm spot on Ray's sticky chest.

Ray guessed they fell asleep like that, naked and sated, because when they woke up it both the storm and the daylight had passed. His fingers danced through Fraser's hair as Fraser slept, more relaxed than Ray'd ever thought Fraser could be.

And he grinned when he realized that perfect Fraser's guard fell down so much he'd fallen asleep on Ray's streaked chest. A little bit of the storm Fraser created had finally hit the man himself.


End file.
